Smart Ass

I think the smartest people are the folks that can make themselves happy. I’m not talking bout pleasuring yourself. I not talking bout taking yourself on exotic vacations or expensive restaurants. What I’m talkin bout is the person that works hard to set life up in a fashion that makes one happy and then maintaining that life. You might have a big ol head full of information, you might be able to do algebra in you head, while standing on one foot, but if you let the things in life that make you happy slip away, well then.

I have a couple of friends, they are both guys and they both really want to get married and have kids and a big ol wonderful life. They both date women that would love to marry them, but neither guy will settle. It’s not that they are real picky, it’s just they have the smarts to know the path to happiness can’t be forced. They know it would be wrong to get married for the wrong reasons. Not fair to them and not fair to the woman that is not “right” for them.

Next week I’m gonna start writing about one of these guys. I have not know him a long time, maybe 7 or 8 years, but we have become great friends. We have spent lot’s of time eating meals together and having wonderful conversations. As he sometimes says we are “solving world problems”. I think this guys story is very interesting, he’s is in a really good place in life right now and it was a very different path he has followed, many paths literally.

Not long ago he started a job as Park Ranger. His “office” is the Redwood National Park. A few weeks after he arrived and started his job he sent me a “transmission”, that’s how it read anyway. Then a few weeks later another one. I replied, letting him know how much I enjoyed getting them and how much I liked his writing style. I ask if I could post them as a blog sometime. He told me these “transmissions” were short pieces he was sending to an A.M. radio station in Ely, Minnesota. One of the DJ’s read them every Sunday morning on a program called Pathways, I think that’s the name of the show. Anyway here is the first one he sent me and Stacey. Next week I will tell you more about Dr. Johnny Duke and share another “transmission”.

Arrived in the Redwoods yesterday.  A few excerpts from my
journal:  Carpooling with a lady named Amy out of Ely, a dollar
twenty-five from downtown Duluth to the intercity bus
station and 18 minutes of your time, the scratched out words "No Ringing
Cell Phones" handwritten on the "passenger" side visor of the bus to
Minneapolis, blue sky with wisps of clouds, trees with tiny, light green
leaves, immature bald eagle perched on a tree along I-35, redwing
blackbirds on the cattails in the temporary ponds of the ditches, the
man leaning over to say, "They can afford to build new roads but they
don't have anything for the homeless.  We need a revolution," my reply,
"I've started the revolution, I'm on this bus," cliff swallows flying
into mud nests under an overpass in Salt Lake
City, a kestrel hovering over a field for 20 seconds before diving into
the grass for an unseen prey, riding the transit system in Portland that
is
among the best in the world, walking through the bohemian Hawthorne
district that is
reminescent of Greenwich Village, the thousands of staples
in the telephone pole from the political
activism, lost cat signs, and community announcements, meeting people
from all over the world at the Hawthorne Hostel, picking up
Ernie the hitch-hiker headed to Eugene, Oregon to visit friends, the
emotion that overcomes me when I first see the "Big Trees", the stumps
of long
gone trees that remind me of the enormous boulders in the Boundary
Waters, the proud feeling when my supervisor hands me the heavy, golden
nationl park badge to pin on my (as of yet to be issued)uniform, the
sound of the white crowned sparrow that is a cousin of the ubiquitous
white throated sparrow in canoe country, meeting and having good
conversation with housemates who cooked
me breakfast this morning.
Reporting live from Crescent City, California.  Johnny
Duke

The long way home

If you ever get a buddy-pass from a friend to travel on make sure this person is actually your buddy. That or travel with Stacey. If the person that you have received that buddy-pass from is your friend they will give you more than just the pass. If they are your friend they will give you lessons on how to use the pass once your original flight plans go out the window. Now days that’s almost a given with the number of flights that have been cut out as the airlines try to fill their planes with paying customers. The person handing out these passes should know this and inform you of the dangers of flying standby.

My Aunt and her husband got in a jam on the way home, they had no idea what to do and would have rented a car in Portland, Me. if they had not been traveling with Stacey and me. That’s a long car ride, I bet they would still be on the road today and I can’t imagine what the fuel would have cost them. But, once they relaxed and we talked them off the ledge, I mean out of the rental car, Stacey went into action and got us all home. Sure we had to rent a car and drive to Boston, that was our backup plan from the get go. Sure we got to Boston and the flights to Atlanta were full, no room for the buddy-pass. Sure we had to fly to Washington and spend the night at Anne and John D’s other home. Sure we had to share that house with three people who were already staying there, but we still had a bedroom and bathroom each. There were good restaurants nearby, we were 10 minutes from the airport and the flights looked good enough to get us all to our final destination the next day.

So that’s about how it went, but to hear us all moan and groan about all this, as it was happening, you would have thought we had rented a car and were driving for 15 hours or so. Looking back, it wasn’t that bad and I’m not sure what the hurry was, there was me, Stacey and 4 senior citizens and none of them had a job they had to be at.

Pick a little, talk a little

Least you think all we did on this trip was eat, let me steer you straight dear reader. We also enjoyed many adult beverage’s. Ice cold vodka martinis were the drink of choice come cocktail hour. Sure there was wine, beer, tequila and the likes, and I tried it all, but theres nothing like an ice cold vodka martini or two especially when you have nothing to do the next day.

Stacey and I, being the outdoor enthusiast we are spent lot’s of time on the go. For example I moved from the couch in the den to the chaise lounge on the deck three or four times a day. I got plenty of exercise walking briskly from the sun deck to the bar to the kitchen to the bedroom back to the bar and then back out to the sun deck. Try staying on the move like that and see if it doesn’t wear you out and cause you to long for an ice cold beer.

One afternoon we hired a lobster boat to take us out for a ride. The captain spent about an hour with us, just tooling around the harbor and showing us just how lobster is trapped, which lobsters you can keep and those you got to throw back. He took us to Walker Point and we all waved to Bush 41. He was very friendly and waved back. He and Barb invited us up to the house for drinks and snacks, but someone on our boat didn’t meet security clearance requirements so Secret Service would not let us come ashore. Anyway Mom had been drinking lot’s of beer and with the way she feels about Bush 43 it was best we didn’t get to close.

One afternoon Stacey and I rode bikes over to Walker Point, but security wouldn’t let us in. I told them our name was on the list and he was like “what list” and I’m like ” you know what list” and he was like ” you got one second to leave” and I was like “ok”. I guess I showed him. Anyway John D and Anne’s place was a lot nicer then Walker Point, so there.

Mission : Seafood

So Monday morning a few of us hopped in Uncle Bucks suburban and head to Portland, about 30 minutes from Kennebunk, to procure seafood for meals for the next few days. Anne was at the wheel so we didn’t feel like outlaws so much, she pays her tolls. Anne has a few shops she thinks we will enjoy shopping and so we’re off. First stop is a kitchen store. They not only have tools for the kitchen and I mean a lot of tools for the kitchen, but they also have some specialty foods. One isle alone is devoted to Olive Oils and Vinegars. Stacey and I must have tasted 6 or 7 of each. They have these small kegs with a tap on each and little plastic cups for trying the different oils and vinegars. Each keg has a small card with a description of each. We tried balsamic with fig, we tried 40 year old balsamic, we tried 20 year green olive oil, we tried oil with garlic and many more. The two we liked the best were the oil with blood orange and an oil with truffles, we bought one of each. I also picked up some chocolate. They had these little bars made with exotic ingredients. Some made with green tea, some made with cocoa from Africa. I grabbed a handful of these.

From there it was up the street for lunch. Just across the street was a small place to get rolls and clams and local fare. One of the local offerings was the beer. Shipyard is the local brewer and they have a lot of different beers to try, so I did. Over the next few days I tried all their beers and the only ones I didn’t care for were the beers brewed with fruit, all the others were very good. So we ordered food and sat out on a pier, in the harbor eating and drinking local brew. It didn’t suck, here are a couple photos. One photo of my lunch, it was as good as it looked and another photo of our view during lunch.

Next we hit the local, fresh seafood store. It was on a side street that looked like a movie set. This is a view of the other side of this street, I wish I lived there.

At this classic seafood market we bought scallops, crab meat, halibut, flounder, shrimp and corn. As you can tell we were gonna be eating gooooood!

The weather was a little damp so we quickly hit the bakery for bread and cookies and then we found an Italian specialty shop and picked up some cheeses and olives and the likes. Satisfied with our shopping we loaded back up and headed back to Kennebunk Beach.

Kennebunk, later that day……

So we arrive at the beach and Uncle Buck switches roles from driver to chef. He has thrown dogs and sausage on the grill. We say hey to everyone, some of these folks we haven’t seen in ten years or so. These guys are our hosts, Anne and John D , a couple of the nicest people one could ever know.

They welcome us into their home, show us around and tell us to help ourselves. There are bikes to ride, beaches to walk, food to cook, food to eat, photos to take, and beers to drink.

When we first arrive Anne is preparing a salad. I think all the ingredients came from her kitchen garden just out back. This garden is a sight to behold. She has a few different salad greens, cucumbers, a couple different basil’s, all kinds of herbs, dalia’s, radish, sunflowers and I’m sure there was more. Green-beans, I forgot green-beans.

So we planned a few meals, looking through a couple of cook books. We decided to do a scallop chowder. That’s what I said, a scallop chowder. We talked about doing fish, shrimp and grits, trout menuire and some other dishes. We had fresh figs imported from East Point, Georgia and Sweet Grass Dairy Cheeses smuggled in from South Georgia. So as you can see food was clearly the focus at this time, which was good. We came up with a game plan and the first step was to drive into Portland the next day and shop. Anne had a good list of spots to check out, most of them dealing with food stuffs.

Later that afternoon John D pulled his yacht around front and we all boarded for a sunset tour of the Kennebunk Port area. This was a really nice boat, more like a small ship. It was 1964 Whiticar, a 63′ motor yacht. It was a great boat for tooling around and checking out the sights. We were served champagne and these delicious little barbecued pulled pork sandwich. We cruised over to Walker point , but the Bush family was not receiving. It was a lovely evening. This is a photo of John D’s vessel.

Gone off up North

thanks mr. blount.

A week ago last Saturday, Mom and Dad flew up to Atlanta. We had a great meal at the Feed Store, and Mom and Dad are no longer stupid for not eating at the Feed Store. Everyone else in the metro area who has not eaten at the Feed Store is still stupid.

Next morning the four of us met up with my Aunt and her husband at the Atlanta airport as she flew in from Mobile. Then together we all got on a plane and flew to Portland, Maine. We were all flying standby, which means we only get seats if there are any that didn’t sell. We were lucky and all got a seat. Flying back home was another story.

Uncle Buck picked us all up at the Jetport and quickly whisked us away in his oversize Suburban. He immediately made us all fugitives of the law. See, Uncle Buck has his own way of doing things and if it makes sense to him well then….

So as we went through the toll gate without paying our toll, I knew we were in for a wild ride, Uncle Buck style. I saw the squad cars start to pursue us, lights flashing, sirens wailing, but Uncle Buck just stepped on the gas and that was the last we saw of the local law enforcement. For now anyway.

About forty minutes later we arrived at Kennebunk Beach and discover this is our home for the next five or six days.

And this is what we are gonna have to look at everyday.

I’m just glad I was there to help Mom and Dad handle the situation.

Times are Tuff

A couple nights back I stumbled around my house in a food coma. I was eating figs that had just been picked from the tree in our yard. I had planned on wrapping the figs in bacon and broiling them. Didn’t have bacon so I cut them in half, added a dollop of creamy blue cheese, dripped a little truffle honey on them and consumed. I added cracked black pepper to some and they just got better. Lot’s of big, strong flavors that worked very well together. Vodka Martinis were involved as well.

I have been in a food coma for days now. Been in a daze for days. I came home from the cooking demo at Le Cordon Bleu with a fresh truffle about the size of a ping pong ball. A gift from Chef. We were also gifted 5 cheeses from the guy operating the Sweet Grass Dairy booth right next to us, as well as a couple pounds of grass feed beef from Will Harris.

So all week long I’ve been preparing dishes with black truffles. First we made Risotto with the truffles, no meat, nothing else, truffles and risotto with homemade chicken stock. A true classic and good indeed.

The next night we had a tater and goat cheese souffle. Damn good indeed. We had this long side a “Will Harris” beef hamburger. Damn good indeed. Good meat, only a few condiments needed.

The next day I had a three egg omelette with goat cheese and truffles, damn good indeed, I wish I had more truffles.

Then last night we were treated to a nine course tasting dinner at the Feed Store. These guys throw down. I have written about them plenty and you can read for yourself how good they are at what they do. And god bless Sam, Hope, Pepper, Gwen and Gemma, we had a great time with ya’ll.

Now tonight I have just returned from the Feed Store, again. Cooper did not let us down, again. It was another wonderful meal, again and we got to share it with Nancy and Marion.

That’s always a treat.